


Sakura Side

by MintChocolateLeaves



Series: Mint's Long-Fics [9]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, post-Conan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintChocolateLeaves/pseuds/MintChocolateLeaves
Summary: When Ran forces him to succumb to the will of fate, letting a coin decide his every action for the span of a week, Shinichi gets more out of it than he’d expected. KaiShin.





	Sakura Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BakaThief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakaThief/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for Bakathief over on tumblr!!! I love her a lot and can only wish she has the best day, and hope for ongoing health and happiness this upcoming year!
> 
> This was going to be a oneshot, but then it became too long. So now, it's going to be split into three parts. Hope you all enjoy!

“Let me guess,” Ran says, as Shinichi joins her in the university cafeteria, balancing his tray with one hand as he pulls back a chair. “Inside that bowl, you’ve got curry udon, because it’s cheap and you didn’t have time to pick up a bento on your way to class.”

Shinichi offers her the driest expression that he can, places the tray down and sits. He says, “Wow, it’s almost as if you _know me._ ”

Breaking his chopsticks, he lifts them up, glances at the udon. He can’t help that it’s good quality for a cheap price, and that he’s poor. He’d promised himself when he’d gotten in to university that he wasn’t going to rely on his parent’s money, and since his part-time job is _crappy,_ curry udon is the best he can afford right now.

“Even if I didn’t know you,” Ran says, “I’m pretty sure I’d know to guess curry udon. Don’t the staff here know to keep a bowl back for you in case you’re late out of class?”

Shinichi leans down, pulls open his backpack, and throws both a notebook and a textbook on the table. After a few seconds, realising that Ran is staring, waiting for a response, he huffs out a sigh.

“They know me,” Shinichi says. “Else they wouldn’t keep it back for me.”

“No,” Ran says, “You’re predictable, that’s how they know.”

Lips curling into a frown, shaking his head, Shinichi mutters, “I’m not predictable.”

She gives him one of her signature looks, one that’s in a collection of Shinichi-restricted looks. He’s never seen her give it to anyone else but him. This one, he’s penned the name: ‘Bitch please’.

“Yes,” Ran says, pitying. She leans forward, pats him on the shoulder. “Yes, you are. You’re going to study while you eat, let me guess – another case made it so you forget to prepare for your next class?”

Shinichi presses his lips together and tries to ignore the fact that she’s right. It’s a lucky guess – she knows that he’s a detective, of course it’s easy to deduct that as someone who helps solve crimes, he’ll occasionally be caught up with a murder scene or an assault.

“That doesn’t make me _predictable_ Ran,” Shinichi says, rolling the words on his tongue. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, rolls them up at the last moment so he looks moderately neat and not like a disaster. “It just means I’m good at my detective work.”

“Right.” Ran says. She shakes her head, leans into her bag to grab her own lunch. Homemade, probably curry. She can be predictable too, sometimes. “You always conveniently find your way onto a crime scene every Tuesday night because you’re good at your work. It’s definitely not because you hate your ‘history of crime’ module and keep trying to put off studying for it.”

Sometimes Shinichi loves Ran for how observant she is. She could be a detective, if she tried, with the skills she has, rather than a business major.

Right now, however, he does not find her deductive reasoning very fun at all. Maybe because she’s right and he’s the criminal she’s cornering.

“Shut up,” Shinichi says. He flips open his textbook, glares down at the text. “It’s a stupid class anyway. If I wanted to learn about history, I’d be a history student.”

“Shinichi,” Ran says. “Just accept it.”

He won’t accept it. Because predictable means boring, and Kudo Shinichi is anything but boring. He’s solved thousands of cases, he’s lived through the takedown of an organisation that had turned him into a _child._

“I’m not predictable.” Shinichi says finally. He doesn’t pout – he’s above _pouting_ – but part of him wants to. “Maybe I’ve got a few routines, but that doesn’t make me _predictable.”_

Ran frowns. She crosses her arms, shakes her head and asks, “When was the last time you did something that you hadn’t planned. When did you last look at something you wanted to do, think, _fuck it,_ and actually did the thing?”

Shinichi pauses.

In his head, he remembers a man dressed in a white suit, ribbon of blue across a top hat. He’d been unpredictable back then, when he’d been chasing him, but that had been a long time ago, in – literally – another life, back when he’d been Conan and every single _day_ had felt like there was no direction or plan behind it.

He swallows and says, “I like my routines Ran.”

For a moment, she simply looks at him. Then, she heaves out a sigh and shakes her head. Another expression from her private collection: ‘how can you be so smart, and yet so stupid?’

“Shinichi.” She says, dragging the syllables out and letting them sink into the general chatter in the cafeteria. His name is heavy in her mouth. “Everyone likes their routines – but routines are… they become stagnant really quickly.”

He knows. Does she really think that he doesn’t know? Even though he’s comfortable with every day life, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t crave to do more. There’s just no time, he’s got too much to do – there’s a reason his days are the same. University demands him to fall into a routine.

“I know Ran–”

“You know I’m right Shinichi,” Ran mutters, digging into her bento, and scooping up rice. He’s right – it is curry. Somehow, knowing he deduced right doesn’t make him feel any better. Maybe because he’s currently being lectured.

“What do you want me to say Ran?” Shinichi sighs, finally paying attention to his own lunch. He lifts his chopsticks, takes a moment to chew on some noodles, before shrugging his shoulders. “Sure, there’s stuff that I want to do. Memories I want to make, but I’m too busy today. They’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

A pause. And then, Ran nods her head. She says, “Okay.”

Shinichi squints, chews on more noodles and lowers his chopsticks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Ran repeats, and then: “Tomorrow. You can’t keep saying tomorrow, eventually you need to just do it so… tomorrow, Thursday. Stop putting your life on hold.”

Right, because it’s that easy.

He mutters as much.

“I’m not telling you to book an all expenses trip to America or something,” Ran says, shaking her head. “I’m telling you to start with little things.”

He must respond with a blank expression, because one moment Ran looks hopeful that she’s changing his mind, and the next she groans. She’s going to have to explain what she means, because right now – she’s not making any sense.

“How about this?” Ran says and reaches into her pocket. She pulls out a 100-yen coin, flips it before catching it in her palm. “Take this.”

Shinichi blinks, refuses to let her press the coin into his hand. He jerks back, scowls. “I don’t need _charity,_ Ran.”

“No,” Ran sighs. “I’m not giving you money, it’s the motion behind it. The coin toss – it’s my lucky coin, so I’m expecting it back.”

Even since the beginning of their friendship, over twelve years ago, Shinichi has never known Ran to have a lucky coin. Either this is a new development, or Ran is making this up off the top of her head.

(Or he just doesn’t know her at all, but nope – he knows her too well, having spent a year living as her little brother.)

“You don’t have a lucky coin,” Shinichi says.

“I do now,” Ran says, and presses it into Shinichi’s hand. “And I’m lending it to you. You have to honour my lucky coin.”

Right. Well, he’ll honour it by not spending it at least. Which means, he’s practically carrying this around for fake luck – geez, has Ran been catching spiritualism from Kazuha in Osaka? At least it’s not a broken piece of handcuffs she keeps on her, at least.

“I have to explain everything to you, don’t I?” Ran sighs. “Listen, this coin – every time you consider something in your head, instead of outright denying the opportunity, you have to flip the coin.”

Sounds like a pain. But if it’ll get Ran to get off his back, he’ll accept it and carry it out during the times that she’s around.

“If it lands on the side of the coin with the Sakura, then you do the thing.” Ran watches as Shinichi rolls the coin across his fingers, small tricks that he’s been trying to emulate every since he’d made eye contact with a man wearing a monocle – _no. He’s not going to think about it._

“Ran, I really don’t–”

“One week,” Ran says. “What have you got to lose with doing it for one week?”

Shinichi isn’t sure. He feels like both ‘everything’ and ‘nothing’ could apply as an answer and so he shrugs his head, focuses on eating instead of answering her question.

“I don’t know Ran,” Shinichi mutters, when her stare becomes too much, weighing down on him like dumbbells, a weight he could never really lift without tearing a muscle. “I don’t–”

“You’re uncertain,” Ran says. “Flip the coin. If it comes up with numbers instead of Sakura petals, then you can ignore everything I’m saying.”

The thing is, Shinichi doesn’t want to flip and risk having to flip the coin for an entire week. If he refuses, Ran will continue bugging him about it until he gives in. She’s always been strong-willed, almost as stubborn as he is, probably more so, since he’s returned from being Conan.

But if he flips the coin, while there’s a 50% chance that he won’t have to take part in this – what exactly _is_ this? An experiment? – there’s also a 50% chance that the coin will land on the Sakura petals, leaving him trapped. The flip the coin means to comply, and Shinichi really doesn’t want to agree to doing this.

“Ran–”

“Either you flip,” Ran says, “or I flip for you.”

Shinichi rolls his eyes, flicks the coin into the air. It rotates, once, twice, before landing back into his palm. Instead of looking at the coin there and then, he flips it over onto the back of his other hand, lifts his hand up.

Sakura petals greet him.

Shinichi swears.

* * *

The first day is somehow the easiest.

Maybe it’s because Shinichi isn’t taking it seriously – there’s nothing much he really wants to do, nothing worth flipping a coin over. After his morning run, on his way to a 9 a.m. lecture, he flips the coin on his way past a small bakery he’s been eyeing up every morning for the last few weeks, entering when he’s greeted with the Sakura petal.

He grabs a pastry to go, and still manages to get into his lecture five minutes early. Which isn’t bad at all.

Then, it’s lecture after lecture until finally, it’s one o’clock and finally he’s ready to head to lunch. Ran’s going to meet up with him at half past one, and so Shinichi settles down on a bench near her lecture, waiting for her to be freed from business law or accounting or _whatever her class is today._

He opens a book, decides to consider more notes for an assignment, based on the class he’s just come from. It’s cold outside, a little windy, but Shinichi ignores it, curses himself for forgetting a jacket.

So caught up in his work, he hardly realises when Ran comes out from her lecture. Sonoko is leaning on her arm, and for a moment he can feel both girls staring, can feel their eyes on him until finally:

“Stop staring at me.”

He looks up, makes eye contact with the girls and resists the urge to sigh.

“I don’t think I will,” Sonoko says. Then, feigning worry, she reaches into her pocket and says, “or maybe I will? Oh no, should I be flipping on it? Let fate decide?”

She flips the coin. Shinichi grits his teeth. It is not that he dislikes Suzuki Sonoko, but she’s quite certainly one of the most aggravating people he’s ever met – and Shinichi has been chasing down murderers for years now.

Whatever the coin lands on, it does not stop Sonoko from being a pain in his ass.

“Your bag looks very out of season Sonoko,” Shinichi says, closing his book with a thud. “Looks very… niche.”

Sonoko sticks her tongue out, and Shinichi, out of a petulant need to regress into a child whenever she is present, sticks his out in response. Ran, in the middle of them, shakes her head and throws her hands up.

After a moment, she asks, “Can we get lunch now, please?”

Shinichi shrugs, pushes himself up from his seat. He ignores the faint complaint that they’re both children, pushes his books back into his backpack and zips it up. He says, “I’m ready to go.”

Ran offers a grateful smile, and then, waves them forward.

Their previous irritations at one another temporarily forgotten in lieu of keeping her happy – they love her, and their squabbling only ever stresses Ran out – the two friends follow after her.

Sonoko does huff though, pulling her bag up on her shoulder, muttering under her breath about how Shinichi knows nothing about style, how her bag is definitely in style and he wouldn’t know niche if it punched him in the face.

“Oh, wait Ran,” Sonoko says as they start to cross campus, heading further inward to the cafeteria, “how dare we go against the rules of the game. Shinichi, where are we going?”

Shinichi squints. He shakes his head and slowly, as if speaking to a toddler, “we’re going to the cafeteria.”

“Really?” Sonoko looks almost disappointed in him, and after a few seconds of thinking about it, so does Ran. She shakes her head at him but stays quiet as Sonoko continues. “What would fate think about that?”

Shinichi frowns. He says, “it’s just lunch, Sonoko. I don’t need to flip the coin to eat _lunch.”_

Sonoko wiggles her finger in his face. She scowls as Shinichi slaps her hand away, jutting out her bottom lip and shaking her head, offended. Geez, she’s always offended – it’s almost as if she’s personally disgruntled by his entire existence.

“He’s not taking it seriously Ran,” Sonoko says finally, shaking her head. “No wonder he seems so nonplussed about this, he’s not doing it at all.”

Right. Shinichi really doesn’t understand why he needs to flip the coin for everything. Ran’s only told him to flip it for things he’s questioning himself over, not this, questioning his entire lifestyle. Why break what’s not broken? There’s not point breaking routine just on the off chance that he’ll be able to remake it into something better.

“I’m disappointed in you Shinichi,” Ran says, which is completely and utterly unfair. She shakes her head, interlocks her arm with Sonoko’s and waits. “The Shinichi I know, would honour his deals.”

The Shinichi that Ran knows, also managed to get himself tossed from the window after a dare from Hattori, but he’s not exactly lining up to do that again.

“I really don’t see the point,” Shinichi grumbles. It’s a useless effort – Ran’s private collection of expressions for him seem to have power ups in efficiency whenever Sonoko is around, somehow, and refusing any of her wants is impossible.

He hates her.

“Fine,” Shinichi sighs. “If it’s Sakura, we go to the cafeteria, like I _want to._ If it’s not, then I guess we could go to some small café of campus or whatever.”

Fate must hate him, because ten seconds later, after he’s fished the stupid coin from his pocket, he’s staring down at his hand feeling vaguely betrayed. Beside him, Sonoko let’s out a small cheer.

“Fine,” Shinichi sighs. “Looks like we’re leaving campus this time.”

The girls seem smug as they turn him away, pushing him down towards the front gates. There’s a café just down the road, Sonoko says, a western-styled restaurant that she’s been dying to try out for a while now.

His wallet feels strained already. Shinichi closes his eyes for a moment, and then follows after them.

“I hate this,” Shinichi says. He’s not shocked when his friends laugh at him.

* * *

At the restaurant, Sonoko pushes him into the booth on one side, and then very slowly nudges Ran into the other side. As if scared that she’ll catch _‘detective’_ or god forbid, some virus that will make her a _nerd,_ Sonoko sits opposite to Shinichi, staring him down as if he needs to be placed in isolation.

Shinichi tries not to glare, because he’s a better person than that and doesn’t want to sink to Sonoko’s level and fails. A foot to the shins, courtesy of Ran, makes the expression meld away into one of hurt innocence.

“It is weird to see you in here,” Sonoko says at last, passing him a menu. She shrugs at his affronted expression, “oh _please,_ I think the last time you went to a western-style restaurant was when you were in London with Ran.”

For a moment, Shinichi wilts. Then, defensive, he wracks his mind for any sort of comeback, because of course he has.

Except, nope. He hasn’t. Sonoko wins this round.

“So, what?” Shinichi says, “I guess you’re trying to say that I don’t try out restaurants nearly enough and that makes me boring?”

He glances down at the menu, skims over the items and decides that nothing really jumps off the list as something he’d want to try. Oh well, he’ll just pretend to flip the coin and make Ran choose for him – how’s that for spontaneity?

Having fully decided that he’s going to leave the ordering for someone else, Shinichi leans his chin against his hand, glancing out at the movement in the restaurant. The prices are low enough that there are enough students milling in and out.

His gaze flitters between students, making simple observations at first, and then, trying to poke around further, make deductions that only an experienced detective would pick up.

A couple, one is cheating on the other, a secret their acting as if neither party knows. It’s obvious from the way his fingers curl around her leg every time she glances at other men walking past. One woman, foreign, is trying to keep up with conversations. Intermediate in Japanese, because she understands, even though her responses to her… business partner? No, there’s a power imbalance, her spine is rigid against her chair… her _boss_ are staggered.

“I know something you should flip for,” Sonoko says, and he ignores her, gaze moving further to the back of the room, to a vibrant group of students at the back. They’re wearing light clothes, comfortable with their identities.

He hums under his breath, makes eye contact with the man at the table. For a moment, everything slows down, the man lifts his hand up, a small wave – recognition, oh god, there’s a reason Shinichi’s been _staring –_ and a smile.

Shinichi feels the urge to duck. He doesn’t need the coin to do that, and so, he does, lifting his menu up, even as his cheeks flush a bright scarlet colour.

“No, no,” Ran says, cutting Sonoko off. Shinichi raises an eyebrow, realises _he’s_ the one being weird and slowly lowers his menu. It slaps against the table, a small sound that echoes only in his mind. “I know what he’s going to do.”

Shinichi thinks this is about the moment where he groans, but he’s still working on getting rid of his blush and so, he decides against it.

“Guys,” he says, weakly. “Please, one thing at a time.”

“Shinichi’s had this crush for a while now,” Ran says, turning in her seat and climbing up to peer over the top of the chair. She’s not very inconspicuous, and Shinichi buries his face in his hands. “And I think he should ask her out.”

_Her._

There is only one girl that Shinichi has ever truly loved, and it’s Ran. He’d felt something for her back in high school, before Conan, but then everything that had happened had… happened, and he’d returned to a body with a displaced version of love than what he’d gone into the situation with.

Or rather, spending so much time with her had helped him realise that while he’d loved her once, he didn’t love her in the same way anymore. Because he did still love her – just, not romantically.

That realisation had come alongside the impending news of his sexuality. There’d been too much going on in his life, that Shinichi hadn’t really taken the time to analyse it properly.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone,” Shinichi says, because he doesn’t want to go into this now. Not in the middle of a restaurant with his two closest friends. They’d support him – _he knows they would, heck, Sonoko has even admitted she’s pansexual before –_ but he doesn’t want to unpack that can of worms today.

“Right,” Sonoko says, shaking her head. Somehow, she thinks that because she and her boyfriend, Makoto, have been together for years now, she’s some sort of love guru. “Flip the coin, if it’s the Sakura side, you’re asking her out.”

Oh god, Shinichi can already feel the stress leaving him with a migraine. There will be no asking _him_ out, whether they flip the coin onto the Sakura side or not.

“I don’t feel comfortable with this–” Shinichi tries.

He’s cut off by Ran. “This experience is about moving out of your comfort zone, and to do that, you need to do something _big_ Shinichi. This is. You can do this.”

Shinichi hesitates. Then, because there’s no chance of fleeing from this, he gives in. These two are like sharks in water, hunting for anything they can force him to do.

He flips the coin.

Opens his hand and sees Sakura petals staring up at him.

“No,” Shinichi tells his hand. “I’m flipping again.”

“You can’t flip again,” Sonoko says, “that goes against the very premise of flipping in the first place. Get up now, walk over and ask her out for lunch.”

Shinichi crosses his arms, leans back in his chair and shakes his head. He says, “Not in public. I’ll ask when we’re alone, no one likes being asked out in a group of friends. There’s social pressure one way or another.”

As if she’s going to protest, Sonoko leans forward, fingertips pressed against her mouth. She doesn’t speak though, let’s out a small squeal instead. Ran must have read her, and decided the woman needed to be stopped, because Sonoko winces as if she too, has been kicked.

Shinichi has very little understanding for why exactly, Ran enjoys kicking people as much as she does.

“Tomorrow we’re walking home together after our afternoon lectures, right?” Ran says. Shinichi nods, because this is routine, and they’ve been doing this for long enough that Ran shouldn’t have to ask anymore. “You need to have asked her out by that time then.”

Glancing down at the coin in his hand, wanting to melt it down so he never has to see a Sakura petal engraved into the metal again, Shinichi breathes out a sigh. It is like he is extinguishing anxiety from his lungs, because it festers in the air around him, nervousness rolling in his stomach.

So, he needs to ask someone out on a date. He can do that.

It’s not difficult to ask someone on a date. It’s just a bunch of words and a mustering of courage to get a pre-planned script out of his mouth. He’s been in much more emotionally taxing situations before.

“You know what,” Shinichi mumbles. “Your coin doesn’t really feel all that lucky right now.”

* * *

By the time he finally gets around to realising he really does need to do this, else he suffers the wrath of two business majors, Shinichi only really has a few hours left in the day.

He could ask in the morning, but he’s got classes in the morning and if he skips them to find-

Jeez, this really is the worst.

After the restaurant, after they finish paying and Shinichi continues to avoid eye contact with the group at the back, he finally comes up with a plan. The girls leave him be, since they need to be back on campus sooner than he does.

Shinichi dawdles back, and he thinks.

And because the world seems to have some sort of hatred for him, by giving him opportune moments when he least wants them to appear, when he turns the corner, there is his chance.

Kuroba Kaito leans against the wall, almost as if waiting for him, and Shinichi considers turning back and finding a new route.

Then, Kuroba looks up. Shinichi blinks making eye contact with him _again,_ stood frozen. He meets dark Olympic blue eyes and realises that there’s no way he can pivot and flee now, not without coming off as rude and the worst person in the entire _galaxy._

Instead, he heads forward, raises his hand up into a small wave and realises that he’s probably going to have to muster the courage up to ask the man out on a date or something.

“Kuroba,” he says, as the other man pushes off from the wall, offering a smile.

Except, it’s not really a smile, it seems a little more than that. Kuroba has this kind of thing where when he expresses himself, his face shows more than usual. The smile is not just from his lips quirking up, it’s not just an expression because it seems like… all of him is smiling.

When the man is happy, his body smiles. It is not limited to lips turned upwards, or eyes shining. It shows in the way his fingers dance as he taps them against his leg, in time to whatever rhythm is currently stuck inside his head. In the way he juts his shoulders back, confidence blooming from him.

“Oh hey,” Kuroba says, taking wide steps to cut the space between them. He doesn’t wave back, simply tilts his head and says, “how’s it going Kudo?”

Shinichi’s subconscious tells him that Kuroba’s voice saying his name sounds almost like a caress. He shuts it up, grabs metaphorical gasoline and sets the thought on fire. It warms his cheeks.

“I’m doing good,” Shinichi says, “you’re heading back onto campus?”

Kuroba nods his head, pulls a face. “I’ve got a lecture in an hour. About thermodynamics, which would be amazing, but you know, my lecturer is boring enough that I’ve taken to making matchstick models of engines in our classes.”

Shinichi can imagine him now, sat at the back of the lecture hall, making small models of engines. What had Kuroba mentioned once, when they’d met through Hakuba, a mutual associate? Shinichi would say friend, but Kuroba always claims Hakuba is simply someone he can’t get rid of.

Ah – yes, he remembers. Kuroba had mentioned how his favourite engine was a rotary engine, because it looked slightly like a nacho chip, a Dorito. He’d been animated while talking about it, and Shinichi had listened, even though he’s never really been interesting in engineering at all.

For a moment, he imagines Kuroba creating a model of the rotary engine, deep in concentration, then, he shakes the thought away, out of his head.

“You’re heading back too?” Kuroba asks, and Shinichi nods, “I’ll walk with you then. If that’s cool?”

It’s more than cool. Shinichi dips his head into another nod, tugs on the strap of his backpack and tries to ignore the weight of the coin in his pocket. It seems to burn against his jeans.

“Don’t normally see you off campus,” Kuroba continues now, “I was kind of shocked when I saw you in the restaurant. Wait – that, that was you right?”

Shinichi flushes. He says, “Yeah, that was me.”

And then, because he realises he practically blanked Kuroba in the restaurant, and that Kuroba is probably coming to this realisation too, Shinichi adds, “I’m sorry I didn’t wave I just–”

Kuroba shrugs a shoulder. He says, “No worries. I promise I won’t cry about it later, I’m used to overwhelming people, I fried your circuits, right?”

He says it like a joke, and Shinichi knows that he’s supposed to laugh, but he hesitates anyway, feels his cheeks burning even brighter. Because really, Kuroba Kaito _is_ overwhelming, and he does make Shinichi feel like he’s being overloaded, circuits breaking down, needing to be replaced.

After a few seconds, he forces a laugh. It feels dry in his throat, but it’s good enough, he thinks. Under his breath, he mutters, “Isn’t that the truth.”

“Hmm?” Kuroba says, and then when Shinichi remains silent, “what was that?”

Shinichi swallows down his nervousness, wipes his hands on his jeans and glances down the road. He can see three different routes back to his campus, so this is probably the best time to ask. Right? Before he sticks to one route.

“I uh…” He swallows again. Then, weakly, “I’m sorry, but, do you want to go out some time?”

Kuroba stops walking, and Shinichi does too, because fuck, he can’t just walk away when he’s dropped a question like this, can he? This is way too soon, he feels like racing across the street and diving into the relative safety of the bushes, concealing himself from this entire conversation.

“You don’t seem very confident,” Kuroba notes, after a moment. His response is slow, like he’s trying to think the words over before he says them.

“I’m…” Shinichi offers a huffed laugh, nervous, “…not?”

“You’re really not,” Kuroba says now, offer a small laugh. Not mocking, although amusement does dance across his eyes, low lit, but present. “I didn’t even know you were–”

“I’ve not really told anyone.” Shinichi says, cutting him off. And then, because he just wants this to be over. “Listen, I, if you’re gonna say no, can we just get the rejection over with because, I don’t–”

He trails off when Kuroba raises an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, it’s definitely a yes,” Kuroba says after a moment. “I’m just – you’ve thrown this at me, and I’d love to go out, I’m just trying to catch my brain up with the information you’ve thrown at me.”

Shinichi exhales.

When Kuroba continues walking, Shinichi follows almost by default. His cheeks are flushed, he feels mortified like he’s going to die, but at least something good has come from it.

“Wait,” Kuroba says, after a short silence, as they make their way down the street. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Shinichi squirms. He says, “Well, you know now, so that’s somebody.”

A short exhale, Kuroba sends him a small smile, soft. He says, “that’s okay then. For a second there, I was worried you weren’t confident because you weren’t sure you wanted to ask, but if this is your first time coming out, then I guess that’s fine.”

Shinichi’s heartrate is so fast he feels like he’s tachycardic, at risk of passing out, but if Kuroba says that things are fine, then he’s willing to agree.

“Yeah,” Shinichi says. And then, blinking, “I’m not keeping it a secret or anything, I’m just – I just never really have the right moment to tell people, so I don’t. So, I…”

Kuroba grins. He says, “no, Kudo, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, it’s okay. The only thing I want to know, is what time I need to be ready for, and where you’re going to take me.”

Shinichi opens his mouth, realises that he has no idea what he should be planning. He’d not actually gotten far enough to start planning things, and already, he’s thinking through restaurants in his head, whether he’ll be able to get a reservation in time?

Wait – does Kuroba want to have something classy, a grand gesture, or does he want something small? He’s not sure how comfortable Kuroba is with dates, with being seen in public and so…

“That depends. Do you want something fancy?” Shinichi says after a moment, “Or do you want something a little more relaxed?”

For a moment, he assumes that he’ll get a response. Most rational, or sane people would let a guy know, would offer some sort of hint. Even if the hint only included their body language shifting the slightest amount, a minor slip-up giving an indication to which they’d prefer.

Kuroba offers none.

Instead, his lips tug up, not into a smile, but rather a smirk. Playful, filled with energy as he leans forward and whispers, “surprise me, Mr. Detective!”

Shinichi opens his mouth. They’re almost at their campus, and he feels like he’s about to start scrambling, because Kuroba is entirely too difficult to read. He says, “Detective’s operate on information, I can’t just grasp at straws.”

Kuroba seems to dance on his feet as he pivots, clicks his finger at Shinichi and says, “then don’t be a detective, be try being a magician instead. Magic me up an amazing date.”

Pursing his lips, Shinichi laughs, “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” Kuroba says, and then, he’s turned around, is racing across the street before Shinichi has the chance to respond. “Let me know when you figure it out!”

Shinichi thinks this is such a ridiculous cop out of planning a date with someone, and huffs. And then, eyes going wide, he scrambles forward, stopping at the edge of the road to avoid being hit by a car. He says, “I don’t have your number, how am I supposed to let you know?”

Kuroba offers him a glance over his shoulder, he says, “It’ll all work out, no worries!”

“Get back here!” Shinichi shouts. And then, finally managing to cross over the road: _“Kuroba!”_

“Kuroba is way too polite for me! You can go ahead and call me Kaito.” Kuroba shouts.

Since he’s racing away, he doesn’t see the way Shinichi’s face burns, the way he slaps his cheeks trying to get himself to calm down.

“Right,” Shinichi shouts back, “If you give me a clue, then you can call me Shinichi.”

“Fine,” Kaito shouts, “my hint is pick something _fun,_ Shinichi. _”_

What an asshole. Shinichi shakes his head, watches the man as he slowly turns into a blip in his vision and waits until he’s gone. The coin in his pocket doesn’t seem to burn anymore, and so when he brings it out of his pocket, his remains without any scalds.

He looks down at the coin, feels his lips quirk up.

“Something fun…” Shinichi says, and flips the coin.

Sakura petals greet him. His lips quirk even more.

“Yeah,” Shinichi says, “I wonder if fate counts as a magic trick?”

* * *

Later, as he’s walking home with Ran, trying to think with both sides of a coin, Shinichi pulls out his phone and pulls up his contacts. He scrolls down, glances at the kanji depicting Kaito’s name.

He’s not sent a message yet, had decided he was going to wait, wait until he’s got a concrete idea in the back of his head. Now, walking beside Ran, he thinks he’s got it down.

Pulling out his phone, he takes a moment to think, before sending off a quick text. _I have a plan for the date. – Shinichi._

He drops his phone back into a pocket, focuses on his conversation with Ran. She’s been giving him pointers on how to ask a girl out, all useless knowledge since, one, Shinichi has already asked out his crush, and two, Kaito is a man.

Part of him wants to tell her about the date, about what he’s planning, how he’d felt terrified asking Kaito out and realising he’d just shared his sexuality for the first time, but he doesn’t. Ran looks like she’s enjoying giving him tips and telling her that this is useless knowledge is only going to make her upset.

Well, not upset, but certainly disgruntled.

“Are you even listening to me?” Ran asks, after a second, poking him in the shoulder.

Wounded, Shinichi raises his hands and sighs. He says, “of course I’m listening to you, I know you’d kick me if I didn’t.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket. A reply: _You found my number. Hopefully the little birdie helped? LET’S DO THE DATE TONIGHT!_

Shinichi blinks, smiles at the thought of a little bird. He’s still not exactly sure how Kaito had managed to leave a small crane in his seat on his way into his lecture, how he’d managed to know which seat Shinichi would be sat at, but he’d managed.

Part of him thinks that Kaito had managed to get Hakuba in on it, although Hakuba had seemed pretty confused at the sight of an origami figure waiting for them. Either way, on one of the wings, the words, ‘a little birdie has come to deliver my number – Kaito’

Shinichi, thinking of the crane in his backpack, balanced atop books, hoping it hasn’t fallen through any gaps in the material, that it hasn’t been crushed. _The bird was cute, but really, calm down. All-caps freak me out._

Ran raises an eyebrow at him, as he clicks on the lock button. He offers a half-smile, mutters some excuse about planning out a group project.

“You’re coming over for dinner tonight?” Ran asks, and Shinichi, aware that he’s probably got a date to go on – so soon, maybe he’s not the only one who’s excited? – realises he’s got to find a way to refuse.

“Not tonight,” Shinichi says. He offers a smile, hopes it doesn’t look deranged or too overly excited. “I decided to flip the coin, because I’ve been thinking about going out to this one place across town.”

Ran grins. Then, after a second, the happiness fades away into suspicion. She says, “you’re not trying to trick me, are you? Did you ask the girl out?”

Shinichi raises his hands, shakes his head. “I’ve not asked any girls out, I’d tell you if I had.”

Perhaps it is her own fault that she’s so blind-sighted by his words, but he finds himself feeling slightly guilty for manipulating his words around. He’ll tell her later, he promises himself.

“Right,” Ran says. And then, the grin is back, warmer this time. “Look at you, actually going along with the challenge. No more cheating?”

A buzz in his pocket. They reach the turning where they’re meant to break apart, Ran going left, Shinichi going right, and both pause in their walk.

“I’ve not been cheating,” Shinichi says, only for Ran to shake her head. He continues, “ _I haven’t.”_

Ran leans forward, pats him on his head, and says, “Sure you haven’t.”

Then, without offering him the chance to explain himself, she pivots, offers a wide wave and a soft, “see you tomorrow, loser,” before heading across the street. Shinichi blinks, watches her until she’s crossed the street, and then continues with his own walk.

He pulls his headphones from his jacket pocket, curses under his breath as he untangles them, before plugging them into his phone. Another text: _Lemme be freaky. It’s not everyday I get asked out by Kudo Shinichi, so like, let me have this maybe?_

Shinichi huffs out a laugh. He presses play on his playlist, and heads down the road. At least Kaito is as excited as he is, or at least, he seems to be? Either way, it’s nice to know that he’s not the only one excited, anticipating this.

Although, it does leave him feeling like the only nervous one.

 _Fine,_ Shinichi texts back, _but only because you snuck me the origami crane. I’ll meet you at the subway off campus at 7?_

All he gets in response is a thumbs up emoji, and an emoji that’s winking at him. Shinichi shakes his head, smiles, and heads down the road. He'll have to remember to swap the coin over when he changes into something smarter.

* * *

There’s a saying that goes: better three hours early than three minutes late. Shinichi’s been trying to follow the idea for a while now, not quite down to the exact details – he’s never actually three hours early, that would be impracticable – but it’s the sentiment behind the phrase.

He shows up ten minutes early, which he’s glad for, because he’s barely had time to sit back against the railing before Kaito’s head pops into view, his hair mussed and his grin wide. He’s wearing jeans – _skinny jeans –_ with a black t-shirt and a hoodie.

Nice, comfortable clothing for their date. Shinichi thinks he looks more natural like this. Definitely more natural dressed like this, than he would be, if Shinichi had told him they were going somewhere fancy.

“You’re early,” Kaito says, as he jogs over. His eyes dart up and down Shinichi’s own clothes – a long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans – before settling on his face. “Kind of makes me feel like I’m late. You haven’t been waiting long?”

Shinichi shakes his head. “No, I just got here.”

“Right,” Kaito says, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Because that line isn’t used often by those who _have_ been waiting a while. Feel free to chew me out if I have, I won’t mind.”

Fine. He can play this game. Shinichi purses his lips, lifts a finger up and wags it in Kaito’s direction. A faux glare and then, “Kuroba Kaito, how dare you make me wait a full minute for you.”

Kaito snorts. He raises both hands in surrender, grins and says, “I’m so sorry Shinichi, forgive me?”

Once again, Shinichi shakes his head. He says, “I don’t think I can…”

“I’ll make it up to you then,” Kaito says. Shinichi raises an eyebrow, waits for an explanation and realises he’s going to get none. The other man is awful at giving hints, and it’s beginning to become a trend.

“You do that,” Shinichi laughs. And then, waving towards the steps, down to the trains below, he says, “Are you ready? We’re needed down at the platform.”

A grin. Kaito digs into his pocket, brings out a small card and holds it up for Shinichi to see. He says, “Commuter card, Shinichi. Discounted prices. We’re getting cheaper train tickets. It’s my contribution to this date.”

Shinichi laughs. He says, “Now we have more to spend on the actual date. Come on – lets go get that train.”

* * *

When Shinichi had been planning the date, he’d flipped the coin to decide whether to go casual or fancy. He’d been placed with casual, and maybe it had seemed a little awkward to plan for, but he’s certain that’s only because his immediate thoughts of romance relate to grand gestures.

He doesn’t want to do grand gestures. They’re tiring, they can go wrong, and it becomes more about pleasing his own desire about what romance should be, rather than being fun for either party instead.

That’s why he decides to forgo a restaurant altogether.

After the get off the train, heading into Shibuya, he pokes Kaito in the shoulder, pulls him above ground and looks around. He says, “How hungry are you right now? Want to eat now, or leave it until a little while later?”

It’s almost eight now – he’s not sure how long his idea will work, before things start to close, so he’s hoping that Kaito will want food now and…

Kaito holds his fingers up, pointer finger pressed against his thumb in a small circle and says, “lets get some food. Things are always more fun when we’ve taken a while to eat.”

Wiser words have been said, Shinichi knows this, but never have they quite resonated with him as well as these do. He nods his head, smiles and says, “let’s eat then.”

Since he’s forgone restaurants, and a café seems a little too… comfy in his mind, Shinichi leads them down off of the main street, heading into one of the side streets. There’s a small food stall set up, somewhere he’d been shown by Professor Agasa, back when he’d taken the detective boys out for the day.

He’d still been Conan then, and paranoia had made it difficult to focus on the tastes, but it _had_ been nice, and he thinks that Kaito would enjoy it too. Shinichi isn’t entirely sure _why,_ but something about street vendors makes him think of being comfortable enough to try something new, being _daring_ and enjoying the risk that it could be completely terrible.

Which doesn’t make much sense, really, because he _knows_ this place. He’s eaten from here before, knows that the food tasted good then. Maybe it’s just because this is more daring a date, more basic and upbeat, with background noises and car alarms going off, bustling of the streets.

“This is the place!” Shinichi says, hoping he’s not made a mistake. It’s a small stall at the end of the street corner, integrated into wall. It’s a shop with no entrance, and as he peers over the counter, he can see chicken sizzling, can see the workers adding salt and spices onto foods.

“Street food?” Kaito asks, and he’s not disappointed, in fact, his eyes are bright, as if he’s been handed something overly precious. “We’re going to a street vendor?”

“I came here a… long time ago,” Shinichi says, offering him a grin, “and they had the best _kare-pan,_ I just had to introduce you to it. The yakitori is good too. I was thinking we could buy a little bit of everything and then we could have a little picnic with it for a while, before heading off to part two of the date.”

Kaito raises his eyebrow. He says, “there’s a part two?”

A grin, “yup. But that’s as much of a hint as your getting. We can walk to Yoyogi park to eat this food though, that’ll get us a little closer to where I want to take us.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Kaito says, “not knowing things is pretty fun too. So, kudos to you, Shinichi.”

Shinichi preens, leans forward and orders their food. He pays before Kaito can react, ignores the man’s pout when he refuses to half the price for food and shrugs his shoulders in what could only be the most unsympathetic way possible.

“Treat me another time,” Shinichi says, “but I’m not taking your money.”

Kaito huffs but lets it go without much argument. From the way the man’s lips tug up, Shinichi can see that he’s already planning, plotting some scheme that includes… something.

The yakitori is handed to them in a small box, placed in a small carrier bag, and then, they’re each passed a kare-pan bun in a small paper casing.

“Try this,” Shinichi says, and passes it to Kaito. He takes a bite of his own, teeth ripping through sweet bread, and to the curry inside. It’s a mixture of flavours that shouldn’t work well together but does.

Beside him, Kaito lets out a small groan. Then, through a mouthful he says, “Street vendors shouldn’t be able to make food this good. Which one of them sold their soul to gain this skill?”

Shinichi says, “you don’t sell your soul for skill like this, you sell multiple.”

Kaito nods. He says, “I would go around stealing souls if it means being able to cook like this. I’d start a soul-stealing ring. No one would catch me, I’d be the best in the business.”

Raising an eyebrow, Shinichi scoffs. He takes another bite, lets the textures mix against his tongue. Then, he says, “I’d totally catch you.”

“You would, would you?” Kaito says, and there’s a smile there, as if there’s an entire universe of stories behind his lips, words he’s yet to tell Shinichi. He obviously thinks he’d get away with it. “I think I’ll steal yours first then, so you can’t catch me, Mr. Detective.”

Shinichi bats him away, laughs. “If stealing souls were a thing, I’m certain I’d have safeguards about keeping mine safe. No stealing souls.”

“How about stealing hearts then?” Kaito says. It’s sudden, a joke, probably, but Shinichi reacts to it anyway. He takes a moment to fall quiet, finishes his kare-pan and tells his subconscious to just shut up.

“Why steal one,” Shinichi says, eventually, “when given enough time, you can charm someone into giving it to you free of charge?”

Kaito bumps his shoulder against Shinichi’s, follows him across the road and towards Yoyogi park. The path is lit by streetlamps, the light saturated, but somehow, soft. He says, “That’s a fair enough comment. Stealing hearts seems more psychopathic than souls anyway.”

Shinichi grins.

He points towards the first empty bench he sees and after a few seconds, they’re both sat back, the seat hard, slightly damp from the previous days rain.

“I’ve got a question,” Kaito says, as they open the yakitori. He waves the skewer in front of him, as if trying to point without having the available fingers. “If you don’t mind.”

“That depends on the question.”

He’s not spent much time talking to Kaito in the past, only the odd few interactions based. They’ve never really been classed as friends, not _really,_ and yet Shinichi feels like there’s not many questions he wouldn’t answer. He knows Conan is off the table, no talking about something most people would never believe, but other than that…

“What happened that made it so that today you had to ask?” Kaito asks. He takes a bite into the yakitori, chews, before raising an eyebrow. “What changed?”

Shinichi tilts his head. He stares at his own skewer, tries to think the question over. He says, “What do you mean, by what changed?”

Kaito shrugs, chews on more chicken. He says, “You didn’t have to ask today, but you did. I’m just curious what happened to… make you decide you wanted to do this. Wanted to ask.”

For a moment, Shinichi wonders whether he should tell him that Ran and Sonoko are expecting him to ask out a girl, his so-called crush and he’d been unable to pretend quite that much and had decided to ask out the real person. Then, he realises that’s not a fun story at all, is much to introspective.

The coin then.

“My friend Ran – have you met her? Mouri Ran?” Kaito shakes his head no. “Yesterday she pretty much told me I’m boring, stuck in my routines and she challenged me to a little game of fate, I guess.”

Kaito shifts his body so he’s facing Shinichi properly. He says, “a game of fate?”

Now, Shinichi reaches into his pocket, brings out the coin and flips it up. When it lands in his hand, he shows it to Kaito. The number one hundred stares back at him.

“Every time I think of something I want to do but aren’t sure whether I should or not, I need to flip this coin.” Shinichi says, “if it lands on the Sakura side, I have to do it. Nervous or not.”

Kaito clicks his tongue, offers a smile. It’s soft, as if moulded from clay, not yet dry, still able to be transformed if needed. Shinichi likes watching it. Eventually, he says, “Sakura petals. It’s fitting really, when you consider them. Do you know what they symbolise?”

Shinichi nods his head. He says, “They represent renewal, how life can be beautiful even if it’s short.”

“Exactly,” Kaito says. He clicks his tongue, reaches forward for more yakitori. “I don’t know how much your friend thought it over but giving you that coin was basically her way of telling you, life is short, do more.”

Even thought the phrase is dead and gone, Shinichi can imagine Ran passing him the coin and telling him, ‘you only live once’. Except, she wouldn’t say the full thing, just the acronym and it would drive him crazy.

He says, “Ran _would_ say something like that. God, that’s so cheesy.”

Then after a small pause, he continues, “She thinks that I’m cheating at the moment though. Like I’m not doing the challenge at all.”

“And yet, here you are.” Kaito says. After a moment, he shuffles closer, lowers his voice and asks, “have you ever played billiards before, Shinichi?”

Shinichi isn’t exactly sure where this is going but nods his head regardless. Slowly, he says, “once or twice?”

“Probably for the best, actually,” Kaito says. He huffs out a laugh. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Back when I was in high school, I used to be classed a cheater whenever I played.”

Dryly, Shinichi says, “Did you cheat?”

“I just played the game a little differently that how people wanted me to play it.” Kaito says, after a short pause. His smile is wry, cheeky, as if he’s proud of his previous experiences. “And I think that you’re a little similar. Your friend – Mouri – she thinks you’re cheating, because you’re playing this game differently to how she wants you to play it.”

“Right.” Shinichi says. He bites more food, leaves the final skewer for Kaito to have. After making sure Shinichi isn’t simply being polite, Kaito scoops it up, ripping a piece of the stick. “But you actually cheated.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” He speaks around a mouthful, takes a moment to finish chewing. “But by Mouri’s definitions, so are you.”

Shinichi flips the coin into the air, watching it spin, and then catches it on the edge of his hand. He repeats it, watching the fluid motion continue, trying to think it over. He says, “I’m playing the game though. I don’t know what more she wants.”

He receives a shrug, which is far more aggravating than a half-hearted answer would be. Kaito seems to know that it’s bugging him, and so he knocks his knee against Shinichi’s and answers, “she wants some changes, right? So, do something big to show you’re playing by the rules. There are opportunities that come to you, sure, but there’s also a lot of opportunities that you should flip the coin on and go out to do as well.”

That sounds almost terrifying. Shinichi swallows down air, before nodding his head. Then, a little lost he says, “I don’t know what I’d put.”

“Write a list of things you’d do if you could,” Kaito says, grabbing their rubbish and jogging toward a bin. “If time wasn’t an issue, or you weren’t afraid it’d be inconveniencing.”

A list. Shinichi can do that.

“And when you’re done with it,” Kaito says, “send me the list. And let’s see if we can cross some of it off?”

Shinichi grins. Standing, he says, “I will. I’ll try and come up with one when I’m home. Until then, we’ve still got a part two to our date. If you’re ready?”

Kaito smirks. He says, “I’m ready for part two.”

* * *

_(Later, after a night of trying to win against Kaito at games in the arcade, Shinichi sits down at his desk and pulls out a pen. He considers writing the list onto his phone, but there’s something inherently satisfying about writing lists out longhand._

_He grabs his notebook, wracks his mind, and thinks about what he wants to do._

_Then, messy writing be damned, he grins, and sprawls ink against the page. He takes a moment to look at the list when it’s finished and then snaps a picture on his phone._

_By the time he’s heading to sleep, Kaito’s sent a smiley face back in response to the list that he’s sent off._

_Shinichi falls asleep thinking about opportunities and wondering whether he’ll be brave enough to flip for them.)_

**Author's Note:**

> The author loves comments!


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